Afraid of What We Triumphantly Faced Before

"Hadley, leave it!"

Pounding feet and barking greet my ears.

"Hadley! LEAVE IT!"

Occasionally, she will leave it. It (in many cases) is my cat Mali. Don't get me wrong, for a cat and dog they actually do reasonably well together. But, sometimes Mali boxes Hadley's ears for no apparent reasons. Other times, even the slightest movement on Mali's part results in a game of chase and barking on Hadley's part.

As annoying as these moments are (especially since leaving a running cat is next to impossible for my pup), I have noticed something interesting. Hadley is obviously not afraid of Mali. As a general rule, she does not cower around her. She and Mali sometimes sit calmly nose to nose. And she chases her. Who chases what they are afraid of?

As well as "leave it," Hadley and I are also working on "Come." She's actually doing fairly well with this. She will scamper to me with her tail wagging and is typically rewarded with a treat.

However, there are times when this is not the case. For example, the other morning she had chased Mali upstairs. Since "leave it" was not working, I called for her to come.

Silence.

I called again.

Mournful barking.

Curious, I went to the bottom of the stairs only to find Mali (whose is almost exactly half Hadley's size) barring the way. Hadley's head was down and she was admitting pitiful whines. She wanted to obey but Mali sat there triumphantly -- the queen of the castle -- blocking her way.

The scenario was comical, but it also begged a question. Why was Hadley giving chase one moment and cowering the next?

The scene tugged the story of Elijah (1 Kings 17-19) to mind. Elijah lived during a time when it was dangerous to be a prophet of God. God had the prophets in hiding. For a couple of years, God took care of Elijah in miraculous ways -- being fed by ravens and later an unending and miraculous supply of flour in a widow's house. In the third year, God decides it is time to confront the evil king Ahab and queen Jezebel.

Through Elijah, God confronts Jezebel's prophets of Baal. They both build altars and declare that the god who answers with fire is the true god. Baal's prophets go first and call on Baal -- slicing themselves and dancing to get his attention -- morning to past midday. No answer.

Elijah's turn. The altar is built and he pours water on the sacrifice and altar three times. There is trench around the altar and the water fills the trench. Then Elijah prays to God and fire comes down, burns up the offering, and laps up the water in the trench. God answered. Elijah had all the prophets of Baal put to death.

It was a great victory for Elijah and an even bigger victory for God. But Jezebel is not cowed. She is angry. She vows that she will kill Elijah -- whom God has protected and done mighty works through. Perhaps we can understand her anger.

But the perplexing bit is Elijah. He turns and runs. And when he interacts with God, he whines about his plight.

What changed? Did God abandon Elijah when Jezebel threatened? No. God never changes. Rather than look at the God who had just displayed His might and authority, the God who had cared for him in miraculous ways, Elijah turned his back and looked instead at his circumstances.

With his back to God, he stared intently on the threat on his life.

Don't get me wrong. I understand it. Been there. Done that. But it is a reminder to me. When I feel afraid or panicked or hopeless, where are my eyes? Are they on my God or on myself and my circumstances?

Sometimes a cat can look like a lion. At those moments, we need God's vision to put everything back in perspective.

How can you adjust your vision today?

Because Our Vision Is Too Small -- Hope Chronicles 69

One thing about working in a bookstore is noticing what people buy or the books left behind on the table in the cafe. It says a lot about what is going on in their lives. One night a woman called and wanted a specific book on getting through chemotherapy. The other night I found a slew of books about Lupus in a pile by a chair. Those are the sad ones. Then there are the books about languages or antiques or dogs or whatever. But those first ones are the ones that always get to me and make me stop and say a prayer for them or whomever they know going through those things.

Several weeks ago, I was cashiering and a woman came up with about 15 magazines. I commented on the number of magazines and said lightly, "But no books."

"No," she said, "I can't buy books."

I was still ringing but asked, "You can't buy books?"

"My eye sight isn't what it should be. I love to read though."

Trying to be helpful, I stated that we had large print books. She explained that those were worse than regular print books. Her vision was narrowing so she could only see parts of words and with larger print she could sometimes only see part of a letter or two. As a result, she didn't have the stamina to read a book but could manage to decipher a magazine article.

Though she didn't know it, I prayed for her -- that God would miraculously intervene and give her back her sight.

In trying to imagine what this might be like for her, I put together the following series of photographs. What letter is this? Part of an I or P or H or F or T? It could be any number of letters.





Does this make it much easier? Can you decipher it now? What do you think? A or H or F or P or an upside down L?

With the entire form, you can figure this letter out. But isn't it hard to do with just a bit?

But what letter comes next? What word do those letters make?

Over and over she must make out the letters than words. Yes, we all do that to an extent, but we have all the letters at once to help us make sense of it.

It got me thinking about my life. I look at it like the woman trying to decipher the events of my life like she deciphers the letters of the words. I see bits here or there -- a straight line the start of a curve, but I have no idea of what the whole is.

But God does. He has looked at my life and known the words woven into the fabric of it. He looks at my life from the time He knit me together in my mother's womb to when He will call me home.

There is an old bit of a poem that speaks to it. I do not know the author or even most of it, but it talks about our lives being a weaving and that we see the underside while God sees the top. The dark colors are as necessary to the pattern as the light.

Ulitmately, God knows what is written on my life -- Jesus' blood shed for me at the cross and because of that this word marks my life:

He has loosed the chains and set me free. Though I may not see all the in and out pieces, I can trust that He sees the whole. Though my life looks very little like I ever dreamed of, there is hope in knowing that He sees the upper side while I see the under. He has FREED me from the enemy and I am His.

Perhaps when things don't go the way I think they should on a day to day or year to year basis, I should remember my vision is short. Even what I see of God is only a glimpse. My small vision is the only limit on a very big God. Since He sees the upper side, perhaps I should follow even when I long to know the path, even when there are valleys, even when there are sorrows.

There is hope in knowing that we only see a bit of what God is doing in our lives, we only have a glimpse of Him. But if your glimpse of Him delights you, what awe will there be when we meet Him face to face.

There is hope in knowing the one with big vision, who sees the upper side.

The Mundane Things

It's Yes to God day at Lelia's. Here are my thoughts on chapter 7, "Keeping Our Vision Clear."

I've been blessed with remarkably good vision. As soon as I write that, I'll probably start needing glasses! Aside from a slight astigmatism in 1 eye, I see fine. Honestly, at this point in my life, there is zero impact from it.

Though about 15 years ago was a different story. It was right after my mother had passed away and I was stressed. That spring the year and half of her illness and passing caught up with me. I had headaches and my vision blurred. It was just hard to focus.

I knew I had the astigmatism before but I had never needed any help. The doctor told me (at 23) that I wasn't as young as I use to be and that sometimes it made it harder for the eyes to adjust quickly enough, that my other eye was somehow through compensating. Happily, it eventually righted itself but I am waiting -- at 39 -- for the problems to come back with age!

While most people aren't as lucky as I was to have my vision "recorrect," I think there are times when we all have things get out of focus. And there are choices we can make to get back in focus. I love Lysa's perspective on the fact that while we are often nearsighted God's vision for us is always clear.

As I think about it, His vision of our past is perfect. His vision of our future is perfect. His vision of where we are at any given moment is also perfect. But sometimes -- often -- I argue with Him about all three. Why did this have to have happened growing up? Why couldn't I be like so and so who has had a friend since she was four? Why did you let me make that bad choice? How will things ever work out in the future? What is the future going to hold? It's paralyzing to think about. How will I manage today?

Lysa shares with us a story about some unexpected money they received and how she was set on new curtains. The short version is that it took God working on her heart to make her allow Art to make the decision not to get those curtains give the money away. Many years later, if things went the way they have, the curtains would have needed to be discarded.

God knew what Lysa wanted today wasn't what she would need for her tomorrow. The same is true for me. God knows what tomorrow brings and how to prepare me for it. The hard part is trusting Him with it all.

Lysa also points to the fact that God is busy in the everyday things of life. There really is no happenstance with God. I heard a quote once that said that "Coincidence is God's way of remaining anonymous." I use to like that quote, thought it was clever. Maybe, to a degree, it is. But it really is only coincidence to those who don't know God. Christians (though we may have to ask Him to show us) can see God's hand in all the things of life -- including the mundane. In fact, He is probably more likely to consistently meet us there than in those rare mountaintop experiences.

Lysa shares three things from the story of Jesus calling Peter:

1. "Our call to obedience may challenge our pride." Peter was called to let down his net where he had already fished. He could have said, "I just spent the last 5 hours in that spot Jesus. No way. You are a carpenter. I am fisherman. There are no fish there." But God blessed him because he didn't take that route.
2. "God uses our experiences to equip us for our calling." Here Lysa references Jesus calling Peter to be a "fisher of men." I thought of another as well. What about David fighting lions with his slingshot, protecting the sheep, well before he ever faced a giant? Our life experiences have a cumulative effect. Rarely is one event totally isolated from another. We just may not know yet how God will connect the dots.
3. "Our obedience may inspire others to respond." Obedience. Ick. I hate being told what to do. But when we follow God's prompting -- sometimes through others -- others may see God in a new way. It's obedience in the small things that lead us to be obedient in the larger things. It reminded me of the story of Naaman in 2 Kings 5. He wanted to be healed but balked when he was told to dip himself in the Jordan 7 times. His Israelite servant girl challenged him, "My father, if the prophet had told you to do some great thing, would you not have done it? How much more, then, when he tells you, 'Wash and be cleansed'!" He went and did it and was restored.

My conclusion, we all aspire to the great things, but more often God is calling us to obey and listen through the mundane things of life -- the lawn, the dishes, the groceries, the kind word, the helping hand, . . . . Since God is in the midst of them, maybe they aren't so mundane!